


Jack Off

by darth_scrambles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Jack doesn't understand his feelings, Jack is so innocent he even makes masturbation adorable, Jack's three dads, Long-Suffering Sam, Masturbation, Other, Sex Pollen, extreme underage (technically), or his body, puckish Dean, uncomfortable Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 05:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15163565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_scrambles/pseuds/darth_scrambles
Summary: Jack gets hit with a spell that gives him confusing new feelings. Someone has to guide him through it, and it looks like Sam just drew the metaphorical short straw.





	Jack Off

Sam and Dean didn't have much experience with succubi. Which turned out to be quite unfortunate.

 

The three of them have her cornered in the second-floor bedroom when she starts forming a ball of light in her hands. Nobody's sure whether to run for a second, and then she pushes it outward, shooting it at Dean – except Jack shouts, “Dean!” and pushes him over, taking the full brunt of the blast in his place. The blue flares and then swirls into Jack's body, and he rocks on his feet, turning to the succubus. She's standing open-mouthed.

 

“What _are_ you?” she asks him, shocked still.

 

Jack just holds out one arm and freezes her until Sam can shoot.

 

Dean gets to his feet as the woman flickers orange and then dims to a black shell. He goes to Jack, swaying part-way on top of the desk. Dean steadies him with a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Hey,” Dean stoops to make eye contact. “You okay there, buddy? What's going on?”

 

Jack frowns.. “I… think so,” he says numbly. Dean and Sam share a look.

 

“Okay Jack, let's just--” Sam grabs one of Jack's arms, and Dean follows his lead with the other. “That's it, okay. Back to the car. It's only a few feet.” They maneuver him down the narrow staircase and out the front door. The actual owner of the house (a 28-year-old banker with a red convertible) is going to be home soon, so they put a spring in their step across the lawn and to the Impala, where Jack is dropped unceremoniously and arranged across the backseat. They're already in Kansas, so they just drive back to the bunker instead of checking in to another fleabag establishment for less than twelve hours. During the drive, Sam keeps looking back to check if Jack's okay. Jack squirms and emits periodic groans, but it doesn't look like he's in pain.

 

“Jack?” Sam finally asks gently. “How ya doing back there?”

 

“Hot,” Jack mumbles. “And itchy, but not – not that. And my penis is stiff, like sometimes in the morning.”

 

Sam frowns in realization, and Dean just sighs. Right, sure. Succubus. They share a grim look.

 

“Maybe I should call Rowena,” Sam acknowledges. “Dean, just… step on it, man.”

 

“Mmhmm,” Dean shoots him a glare. “Make the call.”

 

Sam turns his phone screen on, scrolls through and finds Rowena. He hits “speaker” and holds it in front of his body, between him and Dean.

 

“Sam! Why hel _lo_ , there!” It's not clear if she's drunk or just in a good mood.

 

“Hey Rowena,” Sam responds. “Is it a good time?”

 

“For you, Sam?” She giggles “Always.”

 

Dean clears his throat. “Great. Listen, Jack got whammied with something. We need to know if he's in danger.”

 

“Oh?” Rowena doesn't sound overly distressed. “Do tell.”

 

“We were taking down a succubus, but then she made this – ball of light?” Sam looks to Dean in case he's explaining it wrong, but Dean just gives an approving shrug. “And she shot it at Jack. We killed her, but now Jack can't hold himself up. And I think he's horny. He just keeps moaning.”

 

“Oh, my,” Rowena replies. “Well, it's very lucky he was the one hit, I can tell you that.”

 

Dean shares a look with Sam. “So you know what it is?”

 

“It's called the consummatorem. Sort of like a final power move – only a succubus anointed by Venus herself can perform it. If she's about to die, she can drain part of her life-force and shoot it at her attacker. If it isn't deflected, the energy is instantly fatal.” She considers. “Except now, apparently. Honestly, I can't believe you two didn't know that!”

 

“We've been a little distracted lately,” Sam explains. He and Dean look at each other sheepishly. “So, what do you think is happening to Jack?”

 

“Well, who's to say? This is uncharted territory. Although – if his body can hold the energy without exploding, there's probably no real danger. Just give him a piece of thrice-blessed obsidian to store the energy and tell him to dance a jig or two with wee willy winky. That ought to work, I should think.”

 

They exhale in relief. “That's it?” Dean asks. “Okay, awesome. Thanks, Rowena.”

 

“Of _course,_ Dean,” she sing-songs. “Toodle-oo!” Then she hangs up.

 

Sam looks at Dean with worry. “We're going to figure out what she's up to, right?”

 

“After,” Dean tells him. “First we help Jack.”

 

**

 

The bunker is not empty when they arrive.

 

“What happened?” Cas demands, standing as soon as the door opens. “You said this would hunt would be both quick and easy. You referred to it as a 'milk run'.”

 

Sam and Dean maneuver Jack down the stairs, first Dean supporting Jack's right side, then Sam supporting Jack's left. Cas glowers in front of them.

 

“He's gonna be fine, Cas,” Dean scolds. “Move.” Cas steps aside, still glaring.

 

They half-drag Jack back to his room. Sam gets him settled on the bed over the covers while Dean dashes to the storeroom for a piece of thrice-blessed obsidian. He places it on Jack's bedside table.

“Okay, Jack,” Dean tells him while Sam just stands there awkwardly. “Just, uh – hold this and do what comes naturally, okay?” Sam and Dean share another concerned look, and then make a hasty exit. Sam closes the door on their way out.

 

Cas looks chastened when they return. “He's going to be all right?” he asks quietly.

 

“He's fine,” Dean confirms, to Cas's obvious relief. They find seats at the table. “Rowena says he just needs to hold a piece of obsidian and jerk off a few times, and he'll be right as rain.”

 

Cas frowns and tilts his head in confusion. “'Jerk off'?”

 

“Yeah, you know,” Dean tells him. “Tickle the ol' pickle. Spank the monkey.” Cas's frown only deepens. “He needs to masturbate, Cas.”

 

Sam tries to clarify. “Rowena told us that succubi who have been anointed by Venus,” (who exists, apparently) “can drain their life force and use it as a weapon when their lives are in danger. She called it the 'consummatorem'. Jack got hit with it.”

 

“And you didn't know about this 'consummatorem'?” Cas asks sharply.

 

Sam and Dean exchange a guilty look. “We, umm – we thought Venus was fictional.” Judging by his narrowed eyes, Cas is not mollified.

 

“And if one of you had been the target of the attack?” he growls.

 

“We'd be dead,” Sam confesses meekly, staring at the table. There is a moment where Castiel processes this information and Sam and Dean stew in their own idiocy.

 

“Does Jack know he is supposed to – pleasure himself?”

 

Sam looks at Dean uncertainly. “I think so?”

 

Cas's eyes flash. “Well perhaps you should go make certain.”

 

“Right,” Sam nods, immediately getting to his feet. “I think I'll go do that. Back in a minute.”

 

He trudges back to Jack's room with a sense of dread and knocks on the door. “Jack? How you doing, buddy?”

 

“Worse,” comes Jack's choked reply.

 

“So you aren't…?” Sam trails off.

 

“Aren't what?” And that's a hard “no” on the knowing-what-comes-naturally front. Sam's fingers rub back and forth across his forehead.

 

“Okay. Jack – do you know what 'masturbation' is?” Sam asks.

 

“'Masturbation'?” No. Obviously.

 

“Jack, is my laptop in there?”

 

“No.” Obviously. “I left it in the kitchen.”

 

“Okay, right,” Sam bites his lip. “Uh...” He can't deal with this right now. “I'll just go grab it.”

 

The laptop sits folded on the kitchen counter.

 

He returns to the door to Jack's room and knocks.

 

“Alright, are you decent?”

 

“Decent?”

 

Sam sighs. “Are you dressed?”

 

“Oh. Yeah, mostly.”

 

That could be concerning, but Sam's pretty sure the kid is just barefoot or something, and he's doing Cas' Amelia-Bedelia thing where he ignores the spirit of the question. Sam unlocks the door, then immediately shields his eyes with his hands. “Ah, god! Jesus, Jack.”

 

Jack _is_ mostly dressed. That part is true. He's also lying facedown on his bed with his pants and boxers pulled partway down, making confused humping motions. He turns his head and looks at Sam miserably. “Sam. What is this?”

 

“Okay, um,” he's so articulate today, “could you just – pull the blanket up? Maybe?”

 

Jack twists around so he's on his back and pulls the blanket up, just a half-second too late to preserve his modesty. Sam determinedly ignores this and sits on (the very edge of) the bed, booting up the laptop and signing in. He connects to the network and types a few keywords into the search bar. As sex ed goes, it's not perfect, but Jack is getting worse by the minute and they don't have a ton of time here (besides, isn't that the Winchester way?). Damn, the connection is slow today.

 

 _Server not found_ , the computer informs him.

 

_Obviously._

 

“Gimme a sec.” Sam slides the computer off his lap, then picks himself up and dashes back to the library. “Dean!” he calls out, so as not to waste any time. “Dean, internet's out!”

 

Dean perks up as Sam rounds the corner, and Cas looks up from _Being on the Subject of Unnatural Creatures of Canada_. “What? Oh, yeah, I think we knocked something loose with that grenade. It's been going in and out. What's up?”

 

Sam rubs his forehead again. “Well there goes our sex ed teacher.”

 

Dean grimaces. Cas looks like he's about to say something disapproving.

 

“I guess I'll just go – explain it myself,” Sam decides before Cas can interject.

 

“Better you than me,” Dean mutters.

 

Cas stares at them with narrowed eyes. “Yes,” he responds to Dean. “I think we can all agree Sam is a better choice than you for this task.” Dean looks up indignantly.

 

“Yeah,” Sam answers no one. “All right. Back in a minute.”

 

**

 

He knocks on Jack's door. There's an answering rustle from within. “Hey, Jack,” he clears his throat.

 

“Sam?”

 

“Yeah, it's me.” Sam bites his lip. “We figured out what's going on with you. Looks like you were hit with a surge of energy that would've killed…” Sam considers, “basically anyone except you. And some of your uncles.” He sighs. “Jack, what do you know about sex?”

 

“Um,” Jack sounds tentative. “It's how a man and a woman make a baby?”

 

Wow. Okay so, granted, Jack pretty much learned everything he knows from Kelly and probably most mothers would rather wait until at least birth to have The Talk with their child. Sam understands that. It's an awkward conversation to have with your fetus. It's just that normally there are a few years between “infant” and “horny teenager” and boy, does Sam regret never getting that window.

 

He wishes he were less equipped to have this conversation. Then again, it would be difficult to be less equipped than Cas. Or Dean “Hustler totally counts as The Talk” Winchester.

 

“Well, that is true. But there's a lot more to it than that. Sex is also something that feels good, and people do it because they like it – sometimes to each other, or sometimes to themselves.” Sam went to law school once. He used to be good at words. “That energy you got hit with is making you want sex. So, I'm going to explain how to do it to yourself, okay? I'll guide you through it.”

 

“You can't just show me?”

 

Sam purses his lips. “Well it's traditionally kind of a private thing. Look, um. You know how you hold your cock – your penis – when you're peeing?”

 

“I'm not stupid, Sam,” Jack huffs.

 

“Okay, good.” Sam licks his lips. “What I need you to do is grab it just like that, and hold it in one hand. Gently.”

 

There's quiet for a moment, then rustling noises. “Okay!” Jack calls. “Now what?”

 

“Um,” Sam stutters. “Move your hand up and down.”

 

“Ow!”

 

“...Jack?” _Please_ , Sam is praying, _please don't let this be a side-effect of the spell_.

 

“I don't like this!” Jack's voice is petulant. “It's too scratchy!”

 

Too... scratchy? Well, that's an easy enough fix.

 

Sam trots over to Dean's room this time (because where _else_ would the lube be) and grabs a tube off Dean's bedside table. He returns to Jack's room and knocks.

 

“Jack?” he calls. “I'm going to come in for a second, okay?”

 

“Okay,” comes the muffled response. Sam tentatively slides the lock open and pushes the door in.

 

Jack is splayed across the bed, cock red and angry against his belly. He's holding it in the same hand as the piece of obsidian.

 

“Jack,” Sam says flatly.

 

“Yeah?” Jack squints up at him.

 

“Hold the rock in your other hand.”

 

“Oh,” Jack says meekly, taking the rock in his right hand. “I didn't know if that was allowed.”

 

“Sorry.” Sam is averting his eyes. “I should have specified.” Well, he's in here now. And he has the lube, which might make this all go faster, so he figures 'why not?' and places the tube on the bed by Jack's left shoulder.

 

“Here,” he says soothingly. “Just, uh, put some of this on your fingers.” Jack holds out his left hand toward Sam. Sam unscrews the cap and (carefully avoiding contact with either the mouth of the tube or Jack's fingers) squeezes some out into the palm of Jack's left hand.

 

“Good,” Sam nods. “Okay, now grab your cock again.”

 

“Like this?” Sam takes a deep breath and gives up averting his eyes. Jack has it roughly correct, thank God.

 

“Yeah, that's right,” Sam tells him with no small amount of relief. “Maybe not so hard, though.” Jack listens intently. “Right; now slide your hand up and down.”

 

Jack gasps when his hand moves. Finally. “Okay great. I'm just going to go wait. Out there.” Sam jumps to his feet, his instincts telling him to flee. He ignores Jack's disappointed frown, hurrying out and shutting the door behind him. He leans back against it as if holding it shut and tries to get his bearings. He can hear groans coming from behind him. And then…

 

“Sam?” God, why. “Sam?”

 

“Yeah?” Sam asks, voice strained.

 

“Do I just keep doing this?”

 

“Yeah,” Sam replies. “Sure. If you want, try moving your thumb around the head.” There's another gasp in response, followed by another minute of quiet groaning.

 

“Sam,” Jack says again. Sam starts to respond, but Jack just continues. “Sam, ahh-- Sam, Sam, oh, Sam!” This was _so_ much more than Sam wanted to know about Jack. “Oh god, S-- Sam!”

 

Then blessed, blessed silence. Sam lets out the breath he's been holding.

 

Dean and Cas look up when Sam strides into the room.

 

“All good?” Dean asks.

 

Sam nods tensely.

 

Dean nods back. “Well then. Good. You wanna, I dunno--”

 

“Drink?” Sam supplies. “Yes. I would like that.”

 

 

**

 

Cas is out when Jack emerges. Sam and Dean are at the table with a laptop and a comic book (respectively). Jack's hair has been hurriedly combed back and his clothes are rumpled. Worse, he has a knowing grin that just isn't going away.

 

He sits down between them.

 

“So, that was sex!” he announces.

 

“Yup,” Sam's voice is strained.

 

“Well, one kind,” Dean corrects.

 

Jack tilts his head curiously. “How many other kinds are there?”

 

Dean chuckles. “As many as there are stars in the sky, kid.”

 

His eyes go wide. “Like what?”

 

Dean grins. “Oh, boy. Well there's the kinds you do by yourself. And then there's lots of kinds with someone else – or multiple someones – actually, Sam, maybe we should show Jack some porn, like, just to...” he trails off in the face of Sam's glare.

 

Sam types “what is sex?” into google (and has a moment of panic before confirming that the wifi is back up), picks the first result (a wikihow article) and shoves the laptop in Jack's face. “Here.” Jack pulls the computer over, adjusting the angle so he can read the screen. Sam and Dean watch on tenterhooks as his face folds into a frown, then his eyebrows shoot up, and then a few seconds later his mouth drops open.

 

“So girls have _those_ instead of penises?”

 

Sam nods.

 

“And it just goes right in…?”

 

Sam nods.

 

Jack keeps reading. “But this says two men or two women can do sex, too. Is that just because it feels good, like you said?”

 

Sam presses his lips together. “Well, it's more to express how they feel about each other. But. Yeah. That too.”

 

Jack's eyebrows furrow as he reads, but then he starts nodding contemplatively. He looks up at them after another minute. “So how do people know they want to do sex with each other?”

 

“It's 'have sex.' And you don't need to worry about that right now,” Sam responds firmly.

 

“Do you want to have sex with me, Sam?”

 

Sam grimaces. “ _No._ Jack, you can't just – it has to be with someone you care about in a special way.”

 

Jack frowns again, looking to Dean. “But Dean _always_ wants to have sex with people. Even people he hasn't met yet.”

 

“I've got a big heart,” Dean explains as Sam covers his face with his hand. “I've been known to get my heart on.”

 

“So if I met someone, and we both felt--”

 

“Nuh-uh,” Sam shuts him down. “Not happening.”

 

“Not until you're at least two,” Dean adds, responsibly.

 

“Oh,” Jack looks disappointed. “Okay.”

 

“But, hey!” Dean tries to cheer him up. “You've still got Rosy Palms any time you want her. Oh, and – lemme grab the other computer.” He jogs off to his room and noisily rummages around, then returns wearing a triumphant grin. “You are gonna love this,” Dean assures Jack.

 

“Yeah, I'm done here,” Sam declares. He shoves back from the table, grabs his computer and makes like a banana. Leaving virginal baby Jack with Dean is downright irresponsible (“alright now this is called a blowj--” “is she putting it in her mouth?!”) but man, he just can't right now.

 

**

 

“So we're going to interview the security guard and steal his keys for later?” Jack has scootched into the middle of the backseat, leaving Cas squished on his right. He leans forward, sticking his face between Sam and Dean.

 

“That's the plan,” Dean confirms.

 

“And then we'll get dinner?”

 

“Yup,” from Sam.

 

“And then we can go back to the motel room and I can stimulate my penis?”

 

Cas whips his head around and stares, appalled. Sam purses his lips and rolls his eyes. Dean smirks.

 

“Sorry,” Jack nods at Dean. “I mean my 'cock'.” Sam snorts.

 

“Jack, that is--” Cas seems lost. “Human sexuality is a very private thing...”

 

“Dean said you'd say that,” Jack informs him. “Dean said you're a prude, and I shouldn't listen to prudes.”

 

Cas glares daggers at Dean. Dean keeps his eyes firmly on the road and does an admirable but ultimately unsuccessful job fighting the urge to grin.

 

“ _Really_ , Dean?”

 

Dean shrugs. “What? I'm encouraging sex-positivity.”

 

“You don't even know what that means!” Cas growls.

 

“It means sex is good, and fun,” Jack chimes in. “Right Dean?”

 

Dean nods firmly. “Right you are, Jack.”

 

“We're getting you a separate room, then,” Sam asserts. “I'm done losing sleep because of this.”

 

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, he's almost as bad as you were, Sammy.”

 

“At least I always made sure to lock the door, _Dean_. At least I never said 'it's okay to come in' and then chased you around doing the _helicopter_.” Dean hits Sam. Sam hits Dean.

 

Jack turns and smiles reassuringly at Castiel, who is still wearing a distressed frown. “It's okay. Sex is how my mom and Lucifer made me. Lucifer's semen went inside my mom's vagi--”

 

Dean holds up a hand. “Okay, okay. Jeez, you sound like a gynecologist.”

 

Jack tilts his head. “What's a gynecologist?”

 

“A lucky bastard,” Dean explains.

 

Jack nods thoughtfully, as if this is somehow illuminating. “Can I borrow your magazines?”

 

“Sure, once I get 'em laminated,” Dean mutters. Sam can't contain a laugh.

 

**

 

There ends up being only one room available.

 

“No more sugar for you, kid,” Dean rumbles from his bed when Jack gets back from the bathroom at 2AM. “Never again.”

 

Jack just beams at him. “Goodnight, Dean.”

 

Dean grunts. But that's okay – Jack knows what he meant.

**Author's Note:**

> This kid is so adorable I couldn't even write him an angsty fic.
> 
> (By the way, I'm considering a follow-up where Jack recommends that Dean and Cas make the sex together.)


End file.
